


In the House of the Witch

by TheGrimmScribe (orphan_account)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alice in Wonderland References, Alternate Universe - Once Upon a Time Fusion, Backstory, Baking, Blood and Violence, Cannibalism, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Dark Comedy, Dark Fantasy, Food, Literary References & Allusions, Madness, Multi, Prequel, References to Canon, Sweeney Todd References, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:14:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22201669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/TheGrimmScribe
Summary: Prequel toMad Tea Party.Lost in the Tulgey Woods, a young couple encounters the woodland home of a certain Baker with sinful appetites. They are invited to dine with her. Unfortunately for them, the Baker's dark secrets and true colors are revealed as they wind up biting off more than they can chew.
Relationships: Johanna Barker/Anthony Hope, Nellie Lovett/Sweeney Todd
Kudos: 3





	In the House of the Witch

Mrs. Lovett smiled as she removed a tray of freshly baked meat pies from her oven, placing them on the counter. She was adjusting to her new life in this strange realm known as Wonderland. To outsiders, she was an eccentric and feared baker with a reputation for the pleasurable consumption of human flesh. For some reason, cannibalism was considered to be unheard of in this world, even though it was her favorite hobby. After all, she was a baker. Her meat pies were her signature masterpiece. Nowadays, she was living in a candy-colored cottage located in the northeastern territory of the Tulgey Woods. There were times where she felt like the wicked witch from a bedtime story. Sure, she dressed the part, but she didn’t ride on a flying broom or own a black cat. She hated cats. They were the bane of her existence. Additionally, her cottage was not constructed of gingerbread, cookies, or candies, though it did contain sweet treats on the inside, as well as red-and-white striped wallpaper to lighten the otherwise Gothic tone of her home’s interior. 

Mrs. Lovett went by many names in Wonderland, but she preferred to be known as the Bloody Baker, since her culinary creations were concocted with plenty of flesh, blood, sweat, and tears.

“Perhaps I am a wicked witch,” the Baker said to herself. “Although, I don’t eat children. They probably don’t taste good. Kittens sound nice, though. When Mrs. Mooney used to own a pie shop, she was popping stray cats into her pies when she ran out of fresh meat. The public got a nasty surprise when they found out. Those poor, unfortunate fools.”

She pounded her fist against the counter, cackling madly. 

“Why use a kitten for pie when you could have a little priest instead? Or vicar? Or squire? Then again, a grocer sounds nice, since they’re green. No, a grocer wouldn’t be appetizing! Perhaps a lawyer? Their flesh could be sold for a reasonable price.” 

The Baker’s self-centered musings were interrupted by a knock at the front door. It was a rare occasion that she ever received visitors. Most people who were familiar with Mrs. Lovett stayed away from her. 

“Come in,” the Baker said. 

A young couple, Johanna and Anthony, walked into the cottage. The aroma of the meat pies seduced their noses. Johanna held her frightened boyfriend’s hand as she stared at the Baker.

“What do you want?” Mrs. Lovett asked.

“We were wondering if we could stay here, since we have nowhere else to go. My boyfriend and I are extremely famished from walking in the woods all day,” Johanna said.

“We haven’t had a bite to eat since we got here," Anthony said.

“Also, we heard rumors that a wicked witch lived in this forest,” Johanna added.

“What witch?” the Baker asked.

“A witch known as Nellie Helena Lovett.”

Mrs. Lovett smiled wickedly at the couple.

"Guess what, darlings?"

"What?" Johanna asked.

“I am the witch you speak of,” the Baker revealed. 

The couple stood back, holding onto each other.

“What are your names?” Mrs. Lovett demanded.

“I’m Anthony Hope,” Johanna’s boyfriend said.

“And I’m Johanna Barker,” Anthony’s girlfriend replied.

Mrs. Lovett folded her arms and smiled at the couple.

“Well, don’t just stand there. Sit down and I’ll treat you to a proper meal.”

Johanna and Anthony sat at the table in the dining room. The Baker served platters of pancakes, apple strudels, sugar cookies, and peanut brittle to the couple. 

“Shouldn’t we have dinner first?” Johanna asked. 

“In this house, dessert always comes before dinner,” Mrs. Lovett said. 

“Dessert before dinner? How curiously backwards everything is down here,” Johanna remarked.

“Now eat up! You look pale as a ghost.”

The couple began to dig into their meal, stuffing their mouths with the deliciously sweet treats that were served by their hostess. 

“How exactly did you come to Wonderland?” Mrs. Lovett asked. 

“We fell down a rabbit hole,” Anthony replied. 

Mrs. Lovett cackled, slapping her thigh like a tomboy in pantomime. 

“A rabbit hole? Seems to me that your curiosity got the best of you.” 

“Is this place real, ma’am? Or is it fantasy?” Johanna asked.

“It’s real, just like this house, and the food you’re enjoying,” the Baker replied. 

Johanna leaned back in her chair and burped. Anthony glared at his girlfriend. She glared back at him. 

“Would you care to hear the story of how I got stuck in this madhouse?” Mrs. Lovett asked. 

“I love a good story,” Johanna said. 

“After dinner, follow me into the basement. There, I shall tell you my story,” the Baker said. 

Johanna and Anthony obeyed Mrs. Lovett’s instructions. They followed the witch downstairs into the basement of her cottage. In the basement, there stood a human-sized meat grinder. Surprisingly, the machine operated by itself, grinding chunks of raw, bloody flesh into minced meat that was poured into a bucket below the grinder’s opening. Displayed on shelves throughout the area were boxes of lollipops, peppermint sticks, cakes, gingerbread men, fruit pies, and other sweet treats. Johanna’s nose caught the scent of meat pies cooking from inside a large oven in the center of the room. 

“Something smells good,” Anthony said.

“Or is it someone?” Johanna replied. 

“Does it really matter?” Mrs. Lovett laughed. “You came down here for a story, didn’t you?”

“Yes, we did,” Anthony said.

Mrs. Lovett proceeded to unravel her tale to her guests.

“Once upon a time, before I came to Wonderland, I was a baker with the worst pies in London. My pies were greasy, pitiful, gritty, molting, and tasted disgusting. All of that changed when my old partner, Sweeney Todd, walked into my shop.” 

“You’re my father’s girlfriend?” Johanna gasped.

“I’m his wife,” Mrs. Lovett replied.

“How did you and Mr. Todd improve the pie-making business?” Anthony asked.

“He suggested that we turn our customers into culinary concoctions to be sold to consumers. I approved of his idea. Soon enough, business was booming on Fleet Street,” Mrs. Lovett said. “Mr. Todd slits the throats of his customers. I bake them into pies for the public to enjoy.”

Anthony spat out pieces of a sugar cookie that he was eating. He looked up at the Baker in confused disgust. 

“What’s wrong? Do you not enjoy my cooking?” Mrs. Lovett asked. 

“You’re disgusting!” Anthony snapped at the Baker. 

“Excuse me?” Mrs. Lovett replied.

“You’ve been serving people to people. In what world is that not fucked up?”

“My world. As for your snarky reply, young man, I have never heard such idiotic bigotry in my entire life,” the Baker retorted. 

“Bigotry?” Anthony scoffed. 

“Cannibalism is a free action, just like smoking opium or engaging in intercourse with multiple partners. Just because it’s frowned upon in modern society doesn’t make it immoral.” 

“Actually, it does,” Anthony argued. 

“You’re perfectly wretched.”

“And you’re crazy!”

Mrs. Lovett threw her head back and cackled wildly.

“Crazy? I am many things, but I’m not crazy,” the Baker said. 

“Yes, you are,” Anthony said.

“No, my dear boy, you are mistaken. I’m not crazy. I’m mad. Mad as the Hatter. Madder than the March Hare. I even deliver my finest meat pies to Her Majesty, Queen Cora of Hearts.” 

“Okay, I believe you,” Anthony sighed.

“Really?” Mrs. Lovett asked.

“NO!” 

Grabbing a cup of water from the table, Anthony got up from the table and walked over to Mrs. Lovett. He threw the water in the Baker’s face. She scowled at him.

“Why aren’t you melting?” Anthony asked. 

“Because I’m not that kind of witch,” Mrs. Lovett replied. 

The Baker reached into the pocket of her apron and pulled out a knife. Holding Anthony in a headlock, she held the knife against his throat. 

“Let go of me!” Anthony screamed.

“I shall do no such thing,” Mrs. Lovett hissed. “I was prepared to make you my assistant, but it appears that you're an ungrateful bitch with no sense of manners or chivalry. Part of me thinks that you deserve nothing more than to have your pathetic throat slashed in front of your pretty girlfriend’s eyes.”

“I’d rather die than be your servant,” Anthony replied. 

“Good choice, my dear boy. Foolish, but good.”

Before Mrs. Lovett could tear open Anthony’s throat with her knife, Johanna got up from the table, walked over to the Baker, and punched her in the face. The knife was knocked out of her hands. Johanna grabbed Anthony’s arm and ran upstairs to the door. She grabbed onto the doorknob. The door refused to budge. 

“Fools! There is no escape,” Mrs. Lovett said.

Johanna turned around and stared at the Baker. She noticed a sickening grin on the woman’s face. 

“This is my house. You are my guests,” Mrs. Lovett said. 

“Are we to stay here and be slaughtered?” Johanna asked.

“No, my dear,” the Baker said. “You can stay here. But your pretty boyfriend must die first.” 

Mrs. Lovett turned around and unlaced her corset. Her black dress slid down to her shoulders, revealing her lingerie underneath. As her clothing changed, so did her appearance. As she undressed, she slowly transformed a middle-aged woman to a decrepit, grotesque crone. Her fingernails turned into cat’s claws. Her sunken eyes were now hellishly red instead of a pale blue. 

The Baker wasn’t just a simple pie-maker from Fleet Street anymore. She was a bloodthirsty, flesh-eating monster whose soul was corrupted by the madness of Wonderland. 

Johanna and Anthony held onto each other. Mrs. Lovett stomped toward them, licking her lips as she kept her eyes on her guests.

“What are you?” Johanna gasped.

The Baker threw her head back and cackled. Her laugh was that of the classical witch, but distorted, and deeper than the average woman. 

“I am the witch that you parents warned you about at bedtime. I am the scorned bride who lures, cooks, and eats little boys, boiling their innocence to feed the evil in need of fear. I am the Baker of Tulgey Woods, and you are my latest feast.”

“She’s bonkers,” Anthony whispered to his girlfriend.

“So am I,” Johanna said. 

“No, you’re not,” Anthony argued.

“Listen to your girlfriend. She speaks the truth,” Mrs. Lovett said. 

“You’re lying!” Anthony shouted at the Baker.

“No, she’s not. I’m a madwoman. Just like her,” Johanna replied. 

Mrs. Lovett watched with sadistic glee as Johanna pulled Anthony closer to her. Anthony closed his eyes as she felt her lips press against his. 

“I love you,” Johanna whispered to her boyfriend.

These were the last words that Anthony heard before his girlfriend slit his throat with her knife. His body was shoved aside, rolling down the stairs like a dumb sack of flour. The Baker jumped up and down, clapping her hands and giggling monstrously. Johanna stared at her boyfriend’s body and the bloodstained knife in her hands. She screamed, dropping the knife as she looked over at the Baker.

“How beautiful,” Mrs. Lovett said.

“What did you make me do?” Johanna demanded. 

“It was a test,” Mrs. Lovett explained. “I wanted to see if you had the proper traits to be my apprentice.” 

“What do you mean?” Johanna asked.

“You’re just as mad as I am.” 

The former girlfriend of Anthony tiptoed down the stairs, silently approaching Mrs. Lovett. The Baker wrapped her arms around the young woman and hugged her.

“Am I truly mad?” Johanna asked. 

“You must be, or you wouldn’t have come here.”


End file.
